


Your Turn!

by orphan_account



Category: House of Cards (US TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Male Slash, Multi, Oral Sex, Oval Office, Threesome - F/M/M, afternoon sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-26
Updated: 2014-02-26
Packaged: 2018-01-13 21:38:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1241608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Meechum brings a note from Claire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Turn!

“Mr. President,” announced Meechum, knocking on the partially opened door to the Oval Office. “I’ve a private message from the First Lady.”

Francis Underwood smiled lazily; a visit from his favorite Secret Serviceman was always a pleasant surprise, especially now that Meechum spent most of his shifts guarding Claire.

“Will y’all excuse us?” he asked the bevy of politicians and assistants bustling about. They left quickly; one couldn’t put a finger on it but none present felt keen to annoy the new President. Meechum locked the door behind them and returned to the desk against which Francis leaned, arms folded. He noticed, after all, the officer’s swollen, red lips and the faint sheen along his chin and cheeks.

“Have you had a party without me?” he asked, his chuckle burbling deeply. “And what does my darling wife want you to tell me, Edward?”

Meechum grinned boyishly, standing in front of the President, taking his hands and placing them on the sides of his face. “First?” he whispered. “The First Lady asked that you kiss me.”

“Easy as pie,” grunted Underwood, pulling the taller man down to capture his mouth, his exploratory tongue growing bold as he tasted his wife’s salty musk.

He pulled back from the kiss, ignoring the string of saliva connecting their lips. “Did she come?” he asked while kneading Edward’s small, muscular ass.

“Yes, Sir!” The younger man groaned, breaking his formal posture to allow his hard shaft to brush against the President’s hip. “Five times, at least!” he added proudly.

“Good man,” answered Underwood warmly, tapping the table with his knuckle twice with approval.   
“Fingers, too?” he asked.

Meechum nodded, lifting his right fore and middle fingers to the President’s lips. Francis moaned, sucking on them greedily as his hips began moving against Meechum of their own volition.

“You’re hard,” Underwood stated. “She didn’t finish you off?” he asked, eyebrow raised.  
Edward only smiled, handing the President a handwritten note, which read simply:

'Your turn, darling!'

Francis folded the note back up, placing it in an inner pocket of his coat before tugging Meechum towards the heavy leather presidential chair, ignoring the younger man’s protests as he kneeled before him. Edward Meechum was sweet as honey and Francis captured every drop of him.


End file.
